


Grief is just love with no place to go

by leviosaaar



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pre Season 5, theyre on the ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 16:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18968638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviosaaar/pseuds/leviosaaar
Summary: This has been sitting in my drafts since the pre-s5 hiatus when I was hardcore missing jasper and needed to vent lolI kept meaning to go back and add to it but I guess I never did so eh I’m just gonna post this in case anyone else is missing harper and Monty in S6 as much as me rn





	Grief is just love with no place to go

“You know, he never would’ve come up here. He would’ve hated it.’

 

It’s a jarring statement, not only in the sudden subject change but in his voice. The pain didn’t seep in slowly and carefully, in the old familiar manner - with hitched breaths breaking up the words he desperately tries to keep together. This is fast, and sudden, and shocks her deep down to her bones. It’s a stab, a gunshot, a switch into dark, broken, raw pain that she couldn’t have predicted in her wildest dreams. 

 

A few seconds later there’s another grating noise from his direction. A mangled, fragmented half-laugh half-gasp that seems to deny itself in every possible way. Because there’s happiness there, actual real laughter and joy intermingled with every weight thats been hanging over him this past month. 

 

She can’t help but let it be a reminder of how much has changed. How unfamiliar this boy, this man is to her after everything that’s happened. When she looks back on it, it’ll feel foolish - because yes, everything is different now. The world ended for the second time, and they’re back in space again, and there’s so few of them left now, and he killed his mother, and she started to fall apart, and Jasper’s dead. Their entire world just collapsed on top of them and fell from under their feet at the same time and what? She expected nothing to change? 

 

But that’s ok, she’ll hate herself for that later. 

 

He’s turned away so she can’t see his face, but she can tell he’s crying. A glimpse of familiarity in the desperate jumping of his shoulders leaves her yearning to say something, anything, but there’s nothing to say. By now she’s said it all a million times - ‘I’m sorry’ ‘He deserved better’ ‘You deserved better’ ‘It’ll be okay’ - but all of that started feeling useless a long time ago. 

 

So she just puts her hand out, rests it on his shoulder. There’s a flinch at first but then he stills, and she tries to push every comfort she can’t put into words through her arm and into him. Fervently tries to share in every sadness, take some of the pain away into her veins, do anything to make this a little more bearable for him. She can only hope he feels her trying. 

 

‘No matter everything that Earth did to screw him over, he still loved it. Would’ve gone crazy if he’d come back up here.’

 

It’s small, but she can feel it; a tremble starts to shift under his shirt, a tremor in his bones breaking through his wretched, hopeless shield. She presses gently down on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to sit; To stop for a second; To breathe. But he’s confined himself to his own mind, and it’s all she can do to bring her hand down to interlink with his, and squeeze it tight. 

 

‘Feels kinda right that he died with it. That’s sounds pretty damn morbid, but...’

 

He trails off and it brings an unsettlement she can’t shake. A feeling that, if she doesn’t keep him in the present, he’ll disappear. Fade away into despair because he’s just that overwhelmed. So with whatever hope she has left, she talks. 

 

‘I think I know what you mean.’

 

It’s not anything useful, not really. It’s a echo of his thoughts, a mirror, a whisper that he’s not alone - and maybe that’s enough. 

 

He blinks, like he’d forgotten she was there, forgotten he was ever talking to anyone, forgotten that he hadn’t been left completely alone. But then, glassy eyes glance down at her, and she has to hold herself back from hugging him, from reaching out and holding him and never letting go, because of that look in his eyes. But she can’t do that. That would end this moment, this moment he so desperately needs - to try and process everything. She just needs to be here right now, keep him grounded. Keep him sane. 

 

There’s a long pause, and it makes her nervous that she’s gone and broken the moment anyway. That she’s inadvertently robbed him of a moment of grief he’s been trying to find for so long. He needs it, even if it won’t fix everything. Even if it hurts. And it will. 

 

Finally, he exhales, his warm breath hitting her face as she watches him gather himself. 

 

‘I think I’m ready to talk about it,’

 

She smiles, and watches, and listens, and holds his hand. Because if there’s one thing she won’t like let him feel, through all of this bullshit they’ve gone through, it’s alone.

 


End file.
